A Winner Is Two: A Survivalist Is You!
by avatarjk137
Summary: The introductory chapter to my new tournament event, A Winner Is Two! As the day of the tournament draws near, the members of the sinister organization BORED and the strongest Enforcers they could hire begin to gather at their base on Grand Cross Isle.
1. Setting the Stage

**To anybody reading this without knowing about a Winner Is You or A Winner Is Two: Welcome to the tournament! This is the introductory chapter for a fantastic new tournament of authors, and everybody is invited! If you want to test your skills as a writer and have fun in a friendly competition, and maybe win a fabulous prize, then come to my forum to learn more!**

**To everybody else: Enjoy the introductory chapter to A Survivalist Is You's storyline! This chapter features two of the BORED execs, two of the Enforcers, and tells you all you need to know about lesser minions and gives you a better idea of the setting. Hopefully it's also a good read.  
**

**Disclaimer: Sakyo and the Black Black Club are part of _Yu Yu Hakusho_, Ofdensen and the Klokateers are part of _Metalocalypse_, Solidus Snake is part of _Metal Gear,_ Kakashi is part of _Naruto,_ Mr. Incredible is part of _The Incredibles._ I own none of them. I do own Grand Cross Isle, El Centro Del Mundo, and the tournament itself.  
**

**A Winner Is Two: A Survivalist Is You**

**Introduction: Operation Black Lotus**

The view was breathtaking, Sakyo Valdez decided as he gazed out the side window. Grand Cross Island's sundered peaks were capped with white snow on their sloping edges, but the sheer gap in between them was lit up red and clouded from the bubbling lava. The further from the lava one got, the more greenery they ran into; by the edges of the island, the foliage was almost impossible to pass through in any type of vehicle. The four peninsulas spread out from the central mountain in what bore a resemblance to a Christian cross, but on a scale of miles, giving the island its name.

"We're takin' her in, sir," the pilot's voice crackled over the speaker. A human pilot, one of Sakyo's few; after the incident at El Centro Del Mundo, BORED distrusted Sakyo's various demon employees, and he honestly couldn't begrudge them that. However, it meant that although Sakyo would be in charge of operating the tournament, he'd be chiefly using the personnel of other BORED members.

"Excellent," Sakyo replied, still dwelling on his thoughts, and the VTOL jet sank towards the mountain. Here, in the great gash known simply as the Scar, the term 'breathtaking' took on a whole new meaning – yes, it was still beautiful if you could see through the fumes, but those same fumes were life-threatening if inhaled for long. Searchlights flashed out from the bottom of the jet, burning through the poisonous haze, and soon found a landing pad. Sakyo was given a gas mask to wear as he stepped out into the scorching air and toward the safety of a stairwell.

---

At the bottom of the stairwell was a door with a keycard lock, and a USB port. Sakyo already knew what to do – he took a small PDA and plugged it into the USB port. Instantly, the small, LCD-lit screen lit up as it loaded a three-dimensional map of the complex. The sprawling building was designed by the best architects in the world – it cloaked itself fully within the volcano's smoke, it withstood the high temperatures while drawing on the lava's heat for power, it stored a deceptively large command center and high-end living quarters… and the feng shui was aligned marvelously! The power plant and the command center itself was suspended over the lava, while living quarters and storage space were carved out of the sheer cliff walls, burned smooth from the forces that had shaped Split Mountain. Finding what he was looking for on the map, Sakyo smiled. He disconnected the PDA and produced a card, which he swiped. The door opened with a very clean hiss, and Sakyo smiled again, brushing a few locks of his long hair out of his eye.

The hallways were winding, and the building generally wasn't designed primarily to be easily navigated, but it didn't take Sakyo long to reach the main observation and control room. Along the ways he passed many of the faculty, all of which bowed or saluted, usually along with saying something like "Good afternoon, sir." It felt good – most of these men he could trust, even if they were primarily employed by his two cohorts who would also be present. His own men were easy to recognize – the Black Black Club's insignia decorated the lapels of their shirts or suit jackets. The second group appeared to be mostly ex-CIA and ex-Secret Service, judging by their postures, accents, earpieces, and the complete lack of American flag lapel pins that _current_ members would wear. The third, and most numerous group, he didn't recognize. They wore black and dark grey uniforms that left their arms bare, showing them all to be in good or great physical condition. One noticeable feature was the black hood that entirely covered their heads, except for dark eyeholes. Were they another occult group?

He found his answer when he reached the control room. Several men, all wearing the hoods, were at the various control panels. Most were testing out the hundreds of camera systems hidden across the island, an entire afternoon's task. Others tested the sound feeds, or the remote-controlled aircraft that provided additional views of the battles. Presiding over the operation was an unassuming-looking man wearing a three-piece suit, square glasses, and a red tie. His brown hair was carefully combed, and his stance was very passive, with his arms relaxed and behind his back. Although Sakyo wore a similar suit with a blue tie, he wore his black hair long, past his shoulders in a style of mullet that was still moderately popular in some parts of the first world. His eyes, instead of glasses, were distinguished by a scar that started on his forehead and proceeded down and slightly outward, crossing his right eye and cheekbone. His features were darkly lit by a small smile, and he walked more powerfully, in a way that reminded those around him who was in charge and who was in control. "Afternoon," Sakyo announced, still sizing up the man in the red tie.

He had already noticed Sakyo and started towards him when Sakyo had spoken. "Good afternoon," he replied. "Sakyo Valdez, I take it? I hope you don't mind that I arrived early – I like to make doubly sure that everything's functioning properly."

"So I take it you're one of my contemporaries at BORED?" Sakyo asked pleasantly, avoiding the question. The rest of BORED had hardly cared to disguise the fact that the other two members present would basically be there to watch him and make sure he didn't fuck up. He had never met either of them, but he knew of George Sears, the ex-president of the USA. This man he was unfamiliar with.

"Yes, I'm Charles Foster Ofdensen," the man affirmed. "Everything around here is functioning smoothly. The staff are all here, and the Enforcers are beginning to arrive – the two that are here will be in shortly. Our friend the ex-President is out personally overseeing the acquisition of some of our contestants – I expect his return tonight. He's the type to get his hands dirty, if you know what I mean."

Sakyo whistled appreciatively. "It sounds like you really are on top of things."

"I try. Should we go meet our Enforcers? They're in the executive break room now."

"Why not?" Sakyo asked with a smile. As they exited the room, Sakyo made sure to lead the way. Their path soon led them up into the westward cliff. On the top three floors of the cliff were the executive suites – BORED members and Enforcers were entitled to their own bedrooms, although the Enforcers shared four bathrooms between the eight rooms. There was a break room up there as well.

"So, Sakyo, what sort of business are you involved in?"

Sakyo smiled again as he answered. "Well, I got into gambling, mostly on fights. I got a lot of people to back down because I was always willing to bet everything, even my life. Eventually I found gambling on battles between demons, and I was filthy rich in just a few years. Now I run those fights. How about you?"

"I manage a successful band," Ofdensen said with a shrug.

"Oh, good, we're in more or less the same business," the long-haired executive joked. Ofdensen didn't laugh, but he did smile. "Here we are."

Inside the lounge were two men. The first was physically very large, well over six feet tall with a very broad build and a face that suggested middle-age. He had short blond hair that had begun fading towards gray, and blue eyes, which he wore a black mask around. He was dressed in a red spandex outfit with black briefs, boots, gloves, and collar, and a yellow belt with several pouches. On his chest was a circular gold and black symbol featuring a lower case 'i'. He looked up blankly at Sakyo and Ofdensen from the television he was watching before quickly hopping out of his armchair and standing straight up respectfully. He didn't seem to know whether a salute was appropriate or not.

The other man leaned against the wall next to the door, his nose buried in an orange book with a suggestive cover and Japanese text. This one was younger and smaller than the first, slim but by no means a short man himself. He wore a dark blue bodysuit and a matching mask over his lower face, along with a zipped green vest that looked appropriate for the jungle and forest survival and combat that would dominate this tournament. His bodysuit was tightened with bandages on both calves, above heavy-duty dark blue sandals, and on his right thigh, where he wore a rectangular pouch. A rounder, tan pouch was located behind his left hip, and a red fireball-esque emblem decorated his right shoulder. Completing the outfit was a blue headband with a steel plate sewn on, which he wore crooked to entirely obscure his left eye, and fingerless gloves with similar plates sewn over the backs of his hands. Above the headband his hair was silver and stuck out rather wildly. This man noticed the two BORED members and inclined his head in their direction in a subtle gesture of acknowledgment, but made no other move. Well, he turned the page in his book, but that hardly counted.

"You must be Sakyo Valdez," the larger Enforcer said congenially, finally settling on approaching Sakyo and Ofdensen for a handshake. "I'm Mr. Incredible."

"Pleased to meet you," Sakyo said, returning the handshake. He had read the personnel files. _Incredible may not have the stomach for this tournament, but he's an asset with that strength and he'll be loyal for the time being. Kakashi, on the other hand, is perfect. Ninjas know business, and he's among the best._ "Call me Sakyo. And you're Kakashi, right?"

"Yes sir," Kakashi said lazily, lowering the book for the time being to offer a hand, which Sakyo shook as well. "Thank you for access to the all-terrain vehicles, by the way, but I'll be satisfied travelling on foot."

"Well, make sure you at least have your keycard," Ofdensen cautioned. "It'll come in handy for… just about everything."

"Will do," Mr. Incredible assured them. "I might get one of those ATVs, myself. We could be out there a while."

Ofdensen's cell phone went off, playing a surprisingly heavy tune ("Hatredy" by Dethklok, the band he managed). "Yes?" the manager asked, raising a sleek, black and silver cellular phone to his ear. "I see. We'll be right there." He hung up, snapping the phone shut. "Joruus C'Baoth will be on the landing pad in ten seconds. I'm going to go greet him." Ofdensen turned, but he hadn't even reached the door when the cell began ringing again. "Hello? No, Skwisgaar…" Another masculine voice could be heard over the phone, loudly complaining in broken English.

"Why don't _I _greet Joruus?" Sakyo offered. Ofdensen nodded gratefully before leaving the room and walking down the hall in the other direction.

"Should I come?" Mr. Incredible asked, as Sakyo made for the door himself.

"No, you relax. It's the least I can do for the services you provide."

"Well, I'm just glad to be out here helping people," the spandex-clad hero sighed, leaning back in his chair. "That's what we're here for, right? We keep the fights from getting too serious." Kakashi's eye flickered up from his book to Mr. Incredible, to Sakyo, and back to his book; he gave no other reaction.

"That's a good way of describing it," Sakyo chuckled, but inwardly he cursed as he left the room. _Whose idiot idea was it to make Incredible think he'd be doing hero work? We'll have to tell him he may need to kill people sooner or later!_ But as he made for the landing pad he had so recently arrived at, he regained his cool. Soon the tournament would start… and Operation Black Lotus would begin…

**The End of the Beginning**

**What is Operation Black Lotus? Is it just the tournament itself? Maybe... or maybe not!**

**If you have any questions, PM me. Note that there may not be 'behind the scenes' chapters, since I'll be doing two Enforcers for the tournament.  
**


	2. Convergence

**Bah. This took longer than I wanted it to take. Can't be helped, I suppose.  
**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters, only the contents of the story.  
**

**A Winner Is Two: A Survivalist Is You**

**Convergence**

Ofdensen was, as usual, the first to arrive. He straightened his tie, combed back his hair, performed all the usual minuscule habits that had become a part of his routine before appearing face-to-face with anybody of importance. Even though most of the business would be conducted via hologram, he even popped a Tic-Tac. One thing about being a band manager of such a powerful group was that you were effectively the one in charge, but you were not the final word. This quirk of the business had shaped Charles Foster Ofdensen, and given birth to his golden rule of business – avoid appearing in charge, except to those people who already know you are. In BORED, this took Ofdensen far as well. Doing continuous business with other movers and shakers, Ofdensen had a constant advantage – when his pride was really the only thing at stake, he would gladly let it take one for the team. It was precisely because the man known as Ofdensen (when he was referred to by name at all) lost so many arguments at meetings that he so often got his way.

Solidus Snake arrived next. George Sears was the name the public knew him by, but his true name was Solidus – it had been from birth. His activities had been one surprise after another to the rest of BORED. First, the new member that they learned was representing a covert political group called the Patriots turned out to be the President of the United States. Then, he allowed a scandal involving a military base in Alaska to be publicized and resigned from public office in apparent disgrace. Finally, he broke off from the Patriots, stopped feeding them information on BORED's goings-on, and wrecked much of New York City in an act of high terrorism. All of this was very calmly explained to BORED at the first following meeting, with no preamble and no explanation beyond what he initially gave them. Although leaving the Patriots had diminished his holdings, Solidus still personally held enough sway that BORED did not see fit to eject him. This tournament, though, was a test for Sakyo's continued aptitude as a member of BORED. Perhaps it was a test for him as well.

Sakyo was the last to enter the room, the platinum-clearance meeting room at the top floor of the elevator. The Pinnacle, as it was named on the elevator. The long hair, the suit, the power tie… he looked the part of the classic eighties business exec, ready on a hair trigger to show you and your small business exactly what a hostile takeover was. He probably even did cocaine. BORED was angry at him at their last meeting, furious because the tournament had gone awry, and it had been his baby more than anybody's. It wasn't just the idea for a demon to host; tournaments were Sakyo's M.O. They were how he had made it big. He was on very thin ice with this tournament, but that didn't show in his smile; he was damn ready to show the rest of BORED why he got big – because betting his life didn't bother him at all. He always kept the option of wagering his life ready; it was just another bottom dollar. When his opponents saw just how 'all-in' Sakyo was, they tended to fold, and for good reason. Just because he often bet his life didn't mean Sakyo Valdez was a reckless gambler – he always put his full confidence behind decisions.

"You're here," Solidus said simply. It wasn't a reprimand; even Sakyo wouldn't dare be late for this. Each took their seat at a very strange boardroom table – it only had three seats, and was made of a smooth, carefully featureless black material. Ofdensen's was next to the head of the table, on the left side. Sakyo sat two seats down from Ofdensen, and Solidus sat another seat down and across the table. There was a minibar in the corner of the room; it went unused, as always. At the end of the room, opposite the head of the table, was a large clock face.

The clock struck eleven and began to chime. In response, the table began to unfold. In front of each place at the table, a digital placard popped up and displayed a name. Sakyo's place at the table displayed his name, so on and so forth; only one slot at the table was left unfilled. Behind the three present BORED members' placards, audio and video recording equipment emerged smoothly from the tables. Conversely, the same space behind the other several placards was now occupied by a speaker and a hologram projector. As each of these kicked into gear, a new member of the organization appeared at the table, until the boardroom was quickly full. Each empty space at the table, save the blank one, was filled by a full-color, full-motion, live-feed, large-as-life hologram, their every detail visible down to the movements and sound of their breathing.

"Well, it's good to see everybody's on time," the man at the head of the table said. He was a bald, clean-shaven forty-something man in a sharp white suit, with a stern, critical face. His placard simply listed his name, as no epitaph was necessary: _Lex Luthor._ "Now, usually we begin by going over the minutes, courtesy of Mr. Ofdensen or Mr. Shinra, but I think it's for the best if we forego that today. I think we all remember what happened last time. Instead, let me welcome our newest trial member to the table. Mr. Kotomine?"

Suddenly, the last seat at the table flickered into existence on Solidus's right. Sitting in it was a man wearing a black suit with an open jacket revealing a blue shirt, and a gold cross on a chain around his neck. He had nearly shoulder-length wavy hair that was beginning to grey. His placard flickered to life as well – _Kirei Kotomine,_ it read. "Thank you, Mr. Luthor. I hope my membership in this exclusive little organization will be profitable to all of us."

"Mr. Kotomine requested membership in our organization in exchange for the myriad services he has provided for us, and I reviewed his file and found that accepting his application would very likely be for the best, for all of us. Any objections to this arrangement?" Lex was responsible for BORED as it stood today, and his leadership had been consistently excellent. There was no reason to object to his judgment; nevertheless, one came up anyway. Ofdensen gave a ghost of a smile; the man in the second-highest position on the board had earned it partially because he wasn't a yes-man. He earnestly disagreed with Luthor at every opportunity, and Lex was smart enough to keep somebody close who could play devil's advocate to his views.

"Yes. DOOM objects to this man's membership!" Across from Ofdensen, a man in a metallic mask, matching armor, and a green cloak pounded his holographic fist on the table. Although he never took his mask off, he had elected to show respect to the table by lowering his hood, revealing well-groomed brown hair. The man most commonly known as Dr. Doom was not, strictly speaking, a doctor of anything, so he had settled on having his placard read _King Victor von Doom,_ which was technically more accurate. Ruling a small European nation, as well as being a brilliant inventor like Lex Luthor and a mid-level wizard, Doctor Doom was an asset to the organization on several levels. "He has no large fortune, no powerful empire in business or politics. His abilities and personal fortune, though impressive by normal standards, are relatively quite modest. Why are we allowing him in?"

"Don't forget, Doctor, that I also hold a place at this table despite my lack of fortunes. Why, I don't even have ten million US dollars to my name." Across from Kirei sat a tanned man with blue eyes hidden behind glasses and platinum blonde hair in a long, elegant style that draped down one shoulder. He wore a fine, blue-grey European suit with a pink, ribbon-esque bowtie. _Kristoph Gavin,_ said his placard.

"You are an exception, Mr. Gavin, as I'm sure you already know," said the man sitting between him and Sakyo. He was tan and dark-haired, of unidentifiable ethnicity, with sharp features and shrewd eyes. His broad form was clad in a bright orange suit and red tie. _Giovanni_ (according to the All-Knowing Holo-Table) leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table, steepling his fingers. "Your talent as an attorney is impeccable, to the point where it's worth more to the rest of us than any fortune. Why, I'd be surprised if there was a country whose legal system you were unfamiliar with."

"We're drifting off-topic," Lex said. "Kirei Kotomine is not experienced in leading large corporations or nations, but he is a shrewd man with a head for plans, and he can give us inside access to the Holy Grail wars. I'm sure I don't need to remind any of you of the potential power of a wish engine." The table was silent. "I'm giving Kirei this position on a trial basis, but it's an expression of confidence. Shall I put it to a vote?"

Doctor Doom was silent for a moment. "Objection withdrawn, given that it _is_ a trial basis."

"Excellent. Any other membership requests?"

"Yes," Ofdensen affirmed. "Uh, Mr. Gates has requested membership…"

"Bill Gates?" Luthor snorted dismissively. "Maybe when he stops giving so much to charity."

"Er, Michael Eisner has applied _again_…"

Sakyo laughed. "Please. With inflexible business plans like the sixty-five episode rule?"

"He just needs to go die," Giovanni agreed, rubbing his eyes. "Anybody else?"

"No, but, uh… you should hear this. Oprah has sworn vengeance on us, and has already attacked our holdings in north Africa and the West Coast of the 'States."

"Her funeral," spoke the only woman at the table. She was a very old woman, but not unhealthy-looking, with a head of silver hair done up in a heart-shaped style and a very frilly green dress that gave her the appearance of fatness. She looked very unpleasant today, as usual; the facade of doting matriarchy she kept up in public was unnecessary at this table. Her placard named her as _Mom_, and she was a lifelong industry mogul who ran Mom's Friendly Robot Industry. She had more business experience than any combination of half of the rest of BORED, and besides that she had an army of robots. "You boys don't worry your pretty little scalps about Oprah, I'll jam a wrench in her minge."

"Fantastic," Luthor said with a small smile. "Now, I think what we all really want to hear news of is the tournament, and we didn't install an underground T3 line leading out from the island beneath the ocean floor for nothing. What do you guys have for us?"

"As you can see from the live feeds, there are over two dozen Contestants," Sakyo reported with a smile. "A handful have already been eliminated, and our nine talented Enforcers have only minimally needed to become involved. The ratio of planned to unplanned Contestants falls near the projections and well within safety parameters. Viewership is in the tens of millions worldwide. At this point, the controversy only breeds further interest, and our involvement is untraceable except for those few who actually watched a Contestant be abducted. They're also all being tracked to make sure they behave."

"Impressive," Giovanni admitted, "although these numbers so far will barely make up for the overhead. If we want to make up for the first tournament's fiasco, you'll need more viewers than this."

"The numbers are still rising," Solidus confirmed. "We only have very rough estimates as to when they'll level out, but it looks promising."

"How are we doing with the Interpol attempts to root us out?" Ofdensen asked. "If they find us, they won't be able to stop us, but our anonymity will be in danger."

"You're all safe for now," von Doom confirmed. "Interpol has been tied up because of some _seemingly_ unrelated troubles with the likes of DOOM."

Ofdensen quirked an eyebrow. Some people just never got used to Victor referring to himself in the third person. "I take it the issue with the, er, Polish assassin taking out a member of your family is simply a distraction, then?"

"Affirmative. As far as the rest of the world knows, Latveria is merely posturing and trying to garner attention to itself."

"There is one security issue," the man sitting between Doctor Doom and Mom warned. He was a handsome middle-aged man with slicked black hair, a mustache and a black eyepatch, garbed in blue military attire. Since Solidus's resignation from office, the number of heads of state at the table had been reduced to two. Doom was one; _Fuhrer President King Bradley_ (so sayeth the Table) was the other. "It's very unusual, but... a rowboat disembarked from southern California some time ago. It made it all the way to Honolulu, and since then has made a beeline towards Grand Cross Isle. In fact, it would reach the shield by early afternoon. Normally, I would hold confidence in the shield, but... well, you should see the man in the rowboat."

Sakyo paled a bit as a three-dimensional mug shot appeared via hologram over the empty end of the table. "Who is that man? Those scars... what's he been through?"

"My apologies," Bradley said with a wry, slightly embarrassed smile. "I forgot he's more recognizable with the mask on. Let me switch this contraption to the other picture..." This time, the mug shot showed a red-and-black mask that covered the entire head, featureless except for white eyepieces.

Sakyo went paler still. "Deadpool?"

"Indeed." Bradley's right and apparently sole eye swept the table. "The most unpredictable man in the universe is heading for our little pet project. I think we can all agree this is a massive problem. What's worse, the spectral energy filter on the satellite camera showed that the rowboat contains a massive supernatural power source of unknown origin."

"My files indicate Deadpool only keeps firearms, a few swords, and a personal teleportation unit on hand," Giovanni said with a frown.

"I've met him myself, and your files are accurate," Kirei confirmed. "If he's packing something unusual, we have to assume he knows you're there."

"Deadpool is supposedly cursed to be undying, correct?" Solidus smiled. "He sounds like a perfect subject to test the full extent of Operation Black Lotus."

"That's not a bad idea," Ofdensen agreed. "Is the control panel up at the main headquarters yet?"

"No," Luthor grumbled. "There was a labor dispute - it will be finished in forty-eight hours. The one at Grand Cross works, though, doesn't it?"

"It's behind your seat in this very room," Sakyo confirmed. "I haven't had the opportunity to test it, but Solidus had one of his highest-clearance men run a full diagnostic on it just yesterday."

"Anybody opposed to using the Lotus Eater on Deadpool and whatever artifact he's got?" Lex asked. Nobody was. "Alright. Do it as soon as the meeting is over. Now that that's settled... I place three billion on the Joker. Anybody care to bet against that?"

"I'll see your three billion, placing my money on Cho Hakkai," Sakyo said.

"I'm betting on Nathan Hale," Solidus announced.

"Ban!"

"Ginger!"

---

There was nothing but sun and salty sea in all directions. Well, that and the occasional beer bottle left in the boat's wake. It was a modest boat, too, a small rowboat with a half-assed coat of red paint and two benches for seats. Currently, it had one occupant, and the rest of the watercraft was weighted down with the few beer bottles that hadn't been consumed yet, flyers printed on colorful paper, various firearms and explosives, and a large sealed jar of what appeared to be fine-grained dirt. The occupant was a mercenary in a red-and-black spandex uniform that covered him completely, with two katanas crossed on his back. He had been rowing the boat with his arms, but he had tired of that and tied the paddles to his feet instead. Now he reclined on the uncomfortable wood of the boat and partially pulled up his mask to drink a bottle of beer, as he had more or less once every hour since he left Honolulu. "Seventeen bottles of beer on the wall," he sang in a voice like a nail gun on a chalkboard. "Seventeen bottles of beer..." he finished the bottle, rolled up a flyer, and stuffed it inside. "Take one down, pass it around..." the flyer read 'How's my delivery service? Call me at 1-800-555-MESSAGE-IN-A-BOTTLE' He chucked the bottle over his head and into the ocean behind him. "Sixteen bottles of beer on the wall. Damn, I've gotten far. I started with a thousand!"

Deadpool sat up and looked ahead, noticing a queer event in the ocean. Up ahead, the water (which had become increasingly turbulent as the weather began to sour in the last few days) was disrupted, flowing up and against a barrier which apparently wasn't there. The water level was even slightly lower inside. It was obviously an invisible wall, although people unused to the extraordinary wouldn't understand such a phenomenon. Deadpool was not unused to the extraordinary. On the contrary, he could be tracked for miles on the sheer abnormality that leaked into his footprints.

The mercenary's grotesque mouth twisted into a smile. "I'm getting close... now I can speed up on drinking the beer! Sixteen bottles of beer on the wall... what's that?" Deadpool dropped the bottle of Foreign Beer brand beer he had been about to uncap and picked up the jar instead, pressing it to his masked ear. "What's that? Break the fourth wall? ...That's so evil! No, my friend, the time is not yet right." He gently set the jar down and patted it. "Sixteen bottles of beer on the wall, sixteen bottles of beer!" Suddenly, the invisible wall that lay ahead flickered and disappeared, signified by the water rushing in to equalize. "Hey, they're welcoming in. I guess I'm on the VIP list!" He took another chug of his drink and adopted a terrible French accent. "'Ave you a reZERvaSHON?!" He asked indignantly. "Why yes," he replied in his normal voice, "It's under 'KICK YOUR ASS.'" He switched voices back to the French one, although now it was more Spanish. Or maybe Italian. "Right zis way, SER." Back to his normal voice. "I do love being famous."

Finishing his beer, he sped up his foot-rowing, only to notice a shimmer as the barrier returned. "What the hell's going on?" He was now within throwing distance of the barrier, and he took the opportunity to lob his bottle at the dome in a high arc. There was a sound similar to a gigantic bug-zapper as the bottle shattered against the force field. "Hey. Hey. Hey! Hey! Hey! HEY!" He continued on like this for a few minutes, ending with "HEY! PUT THE SHIELD BACK DOWN, I WASN'T THROUGH YET!" He sighed and lay back on the boat, only to see something that made him blink. "So that's why it's so hot down here... there are two suns. Wait, that one's growing bigger... oh, I get it." He blinked again, and pulled his mask down. "Shit." Lurching to his feet, he grabbed the jar of dirt as the light bearing down on him grew more and more blindingly bright. With a grunt, he tossed the jar as far as he could into the water, where it immediately began to sink. He crouched to dive after it with a scream of "ABANDON CHEAP-ASS RENTED ROWBOAT!"

That's when the beam hit.

**End of Chapter**

**At last, BORED is revealed in their Table layout:**

**Head: Lex Luthor- DCAU version  
**

**First Row: Doctor Doom - Main universe version (right), Charles Foster Ofdensen (left)**

**Second Row: Rufus Shinra (right), Fuhrer President King Bradley - Manga version (left)**

**Third Row: Mom (right), Sakyo Valdez (left)**

**Fourth Row: Solidus Snake (right), Giovanni - Anime version (left)  
**

**Fifth Row: Kirei Kotomine (right, trial member), Kristoph Gavin (left)**

**These are the _current _members of BORED. BORED has many past members, although their headcount remains consistently between 10 and 15. The organization is at least two generations old, although they weren't always as powerful as they are now. Shinra Sr., Lionel Luthor, and Giovanni's mother Madame Boss are all former members (yes, I know Lionel Luthor isn't in the same canon as the DCAU Lex, but I'm rolling with that). Stay tuned for the revalation of the true nature of Operation Black Lotus.  
**

**Mom's betting on Ginger. I have no idea who bet on Ban... Kirei and Kristoph can't afford to,so it's not them. He seems like Doctor Doom's kind of guy.  
**

**Deadpool is only pretending to pollute the ocean, btw. Pollution's for fools, kiddos. Also, he brought a thousand bottles of beer as his only source of sustaneance because he can't die from either starvation or alcohol, and rowing to an island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean is time-consuming. He brought fortune-cookie-esque messages to slip into the empties because hell, why not? But he's not corking them, so nobody will ever see most of them. He presumably brought a GPS, but it must be in his hammerspace right now. Lastly, he brought a jar of dirt because... I'll leave you to speculate. He's got a jar of dirt!  
**


	3. The Invisible Noose

**G'day, mates! This here's an intermission chapter. It has two purposes - advance the plot, and set up a new game mode I'm introducing tonight. Yes. New game mode. Are you aroused yet? Good, because that would be disgusting. Anyway, enjoy the chapter.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in the following story, except for the one that I own.  
**

**A Winner Is Two: A Survivalist Is You**

**The Invisible Noose**

_Mewtwo gasped for breath. All his energy had been poured into that last Hyper Beam, and yet his foe still moved. That monstrous form had taken a direct hit, been torn apart – but even with its legs severed, it still crawled towards him, dragging itself with long, gleaming claws that splintered under the demon's own mass. It was quite literally falling apart from the stress of moving, but he had nothing left. He had lost._

_Growling, the demon lifted one half-ruined arm into the air, and it melted into a roiling tendril of suspended liquid. The tendril snaked out and encircled Mewtwo, and though he put up a barrier, it was shattered easily and he found himself in the monster's grip. The tendril solidified somewhat, and a row of thorns grew down it, puncturing the artificial Pokemon's thin arms and knobby torso. Stifling a cry, Mewtwo used Struggle – but it was not very effective, and he only really damaged himself. In response, the demon tightened its grip, squeezing until Mewtwo finally went limp. His head dropped silently. It was actually rather anticlimactic._

_Kirei watched tensely through a skylight, crouched on his hands and the balls of his feet. Mewtwo had fallen, in the end. That was not the desired outcome, but it had been a possibility from the beginning. He had to get out of here, silently but with all possible haste. Magneto had already retreated. The demon was exhausted, he couldn't possibly chase them now…_

_Then a pair of yellow orbs rolled up to fix on Kirei, and his mind fell to pieces._

Kirei sat up, breathing heavily. His skin was slick with sweat, but he was in bed, at his home. He was safe. He glanced over at his clock, and decided to get up. The sun would rise in a few minutes anyway.

As Kirei threw on a robe, his mind turned back to the dream. No; dream wasn't the right word – it was exactly as he remembered it, with no changes caused by his subconscious. He had seen more horrifying things than that before, dealt with more dire situations. Why, then, did this stick in his mind so clearly? He could barely remember what happened afterward – running for his life until he reached what he judged to be a safe distance, and reporting in to Luthor were the only two actions he could remember taking. He had escaped safely; as he had thought, the demon was too injured to give chase. Why was he being haunted by this?

---

Somewhere on the beaches of Grand Cross Isle, a miniature sinkhole began to form in the sands. The sand in a meter's radius around a particularly low point began to flow downward and inward. Then it stopped. Then it continued, stronger than before. Finally, a red-gloved hand burst free from the sand, grasping at the fresh air. It froze still for a moment, then began thrashing with renewed vigor. Next to emerge was a smooth, curved glass surface, damp sand cascading in small clumps off its sides. Closely following the jar was a red-and-black-masked head. The head coughed and sputtered for a second before opening its white-lensed eyes. "Whoa... I guess that's what it feels like to be a plant seed."

Still coughing, Deadpool began hauling the rest of his body out of the sand. "Those assholes... they should've known better than to try to kill me with a giant laser. It's like trying to kill... well, I can't think of any simile that properly reflects the futility! They got sand in my crack, though. I guess that was an accomplishment." Curiously, his suit stopped just above the bottom of his ribs, leaving the rest of him... well, completely exposed. "Looks like it was a pretty good shot, for what it's worth. I, for one, think I look pretty good with a belly shirt, but if I'm going to be hiking it from here, I may want to find new shoes. Oh, and pants maybe eventually." He fell into another coughing fit, and doubled over, pulled up his mask, and coughed out a huge wad of bloody sand. "Mmm... gritty. That's better." Wiping his face and pulling the mask up, Deadpool hefted the jar. "What's that? Head towards the volcano? You don't have to tell me twice. I bet I can borrow some flip-flops there."

---

"…which, in conclusion, will allow NASA to begin mining the moon for resources up to three decades sooner than anticipated. Unless, of course, you buy it first." Lex leaned back, his poker face hiding all emotion, and let this sink in as the music from the holographic presentation drifted to a close.

The smartly dressed, older man across from him blinked. "You've pleasantly surprised us once again, Mr. Luthor. We'll take the blueprints." He nudged his assistant. "Cut Lex Luthor a check."

"Yes sir."

Lex's smile vanished when he saw Kirei standing in the doorway to his office. "Can we wrap this up, gentlemen?" he asked. "My lunch appointment is here."

---

Thirty thousand miles above Lexcorp Industries, Lucius Malfoy was not a happy man.

He wasn't happy that he was dressed as a Muggle, wearing a smart black business suit and a white cravat that he had been told made him look like "a Dracula" instead of his far more comfortable and duel-appropriate robes. Nor was he happy about the reason for this – although Apparating to the States would have been quicker and simpler, his employer had insisted he do this through the official channels, so his passport would back him up if any foolish Muggle police force dared work at odds with him. Although the flight was first class, it was agonizingly slow, and he hadn't been able to come up with a plausible way to keep his wand on his person, so he had to keep it rolled in the newspaper in his tote bag.

But mostly he wasn't happy because of the reason for _that._ Specifically, he hated the reason he had to work for one who would send him to the States by Muggle airplane, so he could oversee some particularly shady work. Although the Malfoys had been pardoned for their crimes by renouncing Lord Voldemort during the famous Battle of Hogwarts, their reputation had suffered immensely. Even most of the shops on Knockturn Alley would now have nothing to do with them, and with the under-the-table donations Lucius had needed to make to _earn_ that pardon, one of the purest-blooded wizarding families in Britain now faced bankruptcy. The very thought set the bile rising in Lucius's throat, and he hastily took a sip of his tea to force it back down. Because of this, he was forced to look for work abroad, in the international wizarding community, where his name was less known. Soon, he found himself commissioned to supervise some sort of operation overseas to get back at an organization he had once applied to be part of.

BORED, they called themselves – rather a strange moniker, but he supposed if they were going to be clever with acronyms, at least they had the decency not to try and be intimidating with it. His application, made almost a decade ago, had been denied on a 7-3 vote on the grounds that he didn't do enough with his appropriately large fortune. It was rather ironic that the first real work he'd ever have to do would contribute to their downfall.

The captain's voice jerked him out of his reverie. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen," the voice crooned, "we _will_ reach our destination in about half an hour. We'll start to descend in about ten minutes, so if you have to use the restroom, do it now. Thank you for flying with us, and we hope you have enjoyed your nonstop flight from London to Metropolis so far."

---

Jade rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his ever-present smile gone now that he was alone at the communications panel. He didn't think he had ever seen that contestant before. He certainly would have remembered… somebody dressed like that. There was the possibility that he was some sort of summons, but he knew from his files that none of Jiraiya's or Kakashi's summons were humanoid, and Raidou's catalogued summons were very different from this person as well. It was out of the question that this was one of Red's, and it didn't seem in-character for Mystique to take on such an… _obviously male_ form. He pressed the button that would ring Sakyo's line, summoning up his smile again even though it was only an audio conversation.

On the third ring, Sakyo picked up. "Talk to me, Jade," he answered, slick and smooth as usual.

"We have an anomaly."

There was a shuffling sound, and Jade wondered idly if it was Sakyo pulling his feet off his desk. "Elaborate."

"I have a strange contestant on aerial feed. He wasn't there before."

"Describe him to me."

"Red and black mask with white eye coverings, holding a glass jar…"

Jade was spared from having to blurt out that the man was without pants or underwear. "That's Deadpool. Jade, listen to me carefully. The camera you have him on… does it have an arcane filter?"

Jade tried the "arcane filter" button, which fell under the category in his mind of 'buttons which seemed unnecessary and which any responsible employee should be more cautious than curious about.' The result was not unlike thermal imaging, but the spectrum of colors didn't seem to flow predictably. "It does, apparently. Deadpool is shrouded in a strange color I can't quite identify."

"That's octarine," Sakyo explained with the air of somebody who only knew the theory of what he was talking about. "Deadpool is under the effects of a powerful curse that makes him immortal. I thought we'd be able to overpower it, but it seems we can't. What about the jar? Is it intact? What color is it under the filter?"

"It seems undamaged, sir. Under the filter, it's flickering yellow, with flashes of red."

"Hmm… you're still listening carefully, right?"

The necromancer thought he detected fear in Sakyo's voice, although it was well-hidden. "Of course, sir."

"Trying to kill Deadpool is a fool's errand, it seems. However, he needs to be kept outside the compound at all costs. Also, consider yourself under direct orders not to mention this to Ofdensen or Solidus."

"I understand, sir. You have my word."

"Good." Sakyo hung up. Idly plotting out Deadpool's probable course from his current direction, speed, and location, Jade pressed the 'stop record' key on his console. True to his word, he wouldn't mention it. However, he was under prior orders to relay any conversation with Sakyo that Sakyo asked him not to mention to somebody to Solidus. He would just have to send Solidus the recording without mentioning anything about it.

---

"We really should try to minimize our meetings in person, now that you're another member," Lex said idly. "There's no entirely obvious reason for me to be associating with a priest, so if we meet in public often, people will start to draw connections."

"Yes, I understand. This was urgent, however. How is your chicken?"

"The food's fine. I like veal better, but chicken's better for my public image." Lex's eyes narrowed. "You say it's urgent, and then immediately deflect the topic. This is something you really don't want to tell me, but feel obligated too." He took a deep, calming breath, and a bite of chicken parmigiana. "This is bad news, and I need to hear it. If it isn't you who screwed up, you're safe."

"I've been having… disturbing dreams." He waited for Luthor to look as if he might laugh, but it never came. Kirei had been honestly expecting scorn at this – he figured Luthor for a hardline skeptic – so this was a surprise. He pressed onward. "I fear we have not seen the last of Death by Chocolate."

Lex gazed thoughtfully into Kirei's food. Kirei waited for a response, pausing to eat himself. He realized he had skipped breakfast in his haste to get to Metropolis, and he was hungrier than he had thought. At last Lex said, "Kirei, remind me why you want to be a part of BORED."

"In your individual endeavors for power, each of you tends to cause suffering, often on a mass scale. Some of you simply don't care, and some of you do, but try to reconcile as best you can. It's fascinating, really." Kirei shook his head. "I know it sounds strange, but watching you work with and against each other, either calculating where you plan to cause suffering or calculating where the suffering has to happen to enable your plans… it's deeply fulfilling to me, like a masterful ballet performance to a performing arts enthusiast. I would aid any or every one of you to continue to bear witness to the results."

"Suffering is not a spectator sport, Kirei," Lex said with a mixture of sternness and amusement. "You're going to get involved on a deeper level sooner or later. That means you'll be called upon to cause some suffering… or endure it. Perhaps both. If Death by Chocolate returns, it may finally be BORED's turn, as a whole, to suffer. You must have known there would be a risk of something like this when you signed on. However, we are eleven powerful and competent individuals united in a mutually beneficial alliance. If and when Death by Chocolate, or any other external force, threaten us, we will deal with it then - either by fighting it, or giving it exactly what it wants."

It felt as if the weight had been lifted off of Kirei's shoulders, if only a little bit. Kirei had always felt more than a little guilty over his strange tendency toward sadism, and framing any harm that might befall him from getting in over his head as a deserved punishment genuinely helped him put it aside. Even better, Luthor acquired a fierce aura when talking about dealing with the demon - the aura of a man who knew quite a bit about battling power beyond human comprehension. It surprised Kirei how much it affected even him. "Thank you, Luthor. This has really cleared things up for me. Would you like to try my shrimp?"

"No! No…" Lex cleared his throat. "As long as you're here, I should warn you." Kirei looked up. "Your dreams may be quite accurate. You see, Metropolis has been dealing with a surge in violent crime recently, one I've had no hand in. There's apparently this cult…"

**End of Chapter**

**Yay for unnecessarily complicating the plot! I promise this will all be relevant either by the end of the tournament, or the plot of the third tournament (Malfoy Sr, for example, won't be a player until the third tournament). The parts with Deadpool will, in fact, be relevant starting tonight.  
**

**Lex is eating chicken parmigiana, and Kirei is eating seafood vindaloo (he's infamous for eating extremely spicy food, hence Lex's aversion). Inexplicably, they're at a restaurant that serves both. Speaking of, I've been working on writing for characters from fandoms I don't actually follow, but it still may come out weird. Kirei is explicitly in a more vulnerable spot than he usually is - he's badly shaken, like most people who suffer from a recurring nightmare for a few months.**

**There are the usual shout-outs. Feel free to point out any you've spotted and feel good about yourself.  
**


	4. Meltdown

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters except for the demons and the two demon summoners.**

**A Winner is Two: A Survivalist Is You**

**Meltdown**

A casual observer would think the rifle-holding Klokateer was experiencing some sort of epileptic attack as he made his way over to one of the mountainside entrances to the BORED complex. Anybody who knew Klokateers, though, would instantly be able recognize an air-drumming session in progress. As the solo reached a climax, the Klokateer even began to make drumming sounds aloud. "Dokka-do-dokka-do-dok-dok-dok-dokdokdokdok-dokkadokkadokkadodokka-CRASH! DAMMIT! I keep messing that last part up!" Growling, he punched a tree in frustration.

"Isn't it more like 'Dokka-do-dokka-do-dok-dok-dok-dokdokdokdok-dokkadodo-dokkado-dokka-dokka-CRASH?" Deadpool asked as he dropped ass-first out of the tree.

"Hey, yeah, thanks!... uh…" the Klokateer got a good look at Deadpool, and immediately pumped a dozen rounds from his rifle into the merc, pressing him to the ground.

Deadpool, for his part, got up immediately after. "That was terrible! You didn't even get any bullets through to scratch the itch I can't reach on my back!" The Klokateer raised a radio to his face, but Deadpool quickly brought out a katana and lopped the offending hand off; the blade continued through and decapitated the man in one swing. "Your drumming is mediocre!" Deadpool taunted. "Also, I need to get into your pants."

---

Lucius Malfoy had been told there would be somebody waiting for him at the airport when he landed. He had expected a chauffeur or a portkey holder, either a Muggle or a wizard in street clothes. He hadn't expected a smallish man sleeping behind a sign crudely marked "MALFOI." He definitely hadn't expected the man to be an obvious wizard, with a pointed straw hat that obscured his face, a blue robe that obscured the rest of him, glowing yellow eyes, and an almost choking stench of stale potion components about him. He _certainly _didn't expect the man, once awoken, to spew a broken stream of obscene threats, calm down, cryptically relay a location for Lucius to be at the next morning, and disappear – in view of dozens of Muggles! – in a very loud and smoky variation on Disapparating. Leaving Lucius to find his own way through the city. He had about three-quarters of a mind to quit right then and there.

But no. Lucius had reminded himself just what he was there for, and it hadn't been too hard to find a hotel (in an epic moment of personal willpower, he had restricted himself to a single room in a Marriot). He partook in some local food, slept like a rock after the jet lag, and was at the correct intersection at nine sharp.

"I didn't think you'd have such a high tolerance for bullshit." He turned around. The strange wizard from before was there. His face was still enshrouded in shadow, despite the fact that sun should have been shining directly onto part of it. Lucius decided it had to be a mid-level enchantment on the hat. "That's good; you're gonna need it, with a boss like ours. I'm Black Mage. I was originally in charge here."

"What happened?" Lucius asked, already dreading the answer.

Black Mage's eyes managed to look even shiftier for a moment. "I'm not good at organizational stuff… I'm a lead-by-example kinda guy."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "What, exactly, does this operation consist of?"

"Well, it's me and some small cult I managed to gain control of… we mostly just lure people into dark alleys and murder them."

Malfoy blanched. "That's all of it? You're… killing people?"

"Yeah, it'll be great. I was told you've killed people in the streets before?"

"Well… yes, but that was completely different, those were just _Muggles _and…" Lucius became aware that under the shadows, Black Mage was grinning at him.

"That's cute. You think a murderous hate crime is more justifiable than a random killing." Lucius flushed with anger at the statement. "Here's the plain and simple, Manchester – your little moral code that you still keep is twisted beyond redemption by now, so you may as well throw it out. Besides, we don't do totally random killing – at least, not on duty. Here, I'll show you. Make some sort of cute thing in this alley." Black Mage had led them to a narrow alleyway that a few shops and restaurants' back doors opened up to.

"Some sort of… _cute_ thing?"

"Yeah, Vladdy. An illusion, anything, as long as people will come up and see it."

A bit doubtful, Lucius found a cardboard box filled with machine parts in the alley. After some impressive but quick Transfiguration, it was a cardboard box filled with yipping puppies. "Please don't hesitate to show me where you're going with this."

"Yeah, yeah… HEY!" Black Mage's shouting voice made Lucius want to shrivel up and die. "FREE PUPPIES TO A GOOD HOME! OR A BAD ONE! OR A STEW POT! ALL PUPPIES MUST GO!"

It wasn't long before a pair of young women showed up. "Oh! Puppies!" They rushed over to the box at Lucius's feet. "You say they're free?" one of them asked Lucius.

"If you must know-"

"Sure they're free!" Black Mage explained enthusiastically, casting a quick illusion on the alley entrance before turning around to face them. "They won't cost you one cent, and _Thunder."_ He raised a hand encased in what looked like a leather yellow mitten, and a bolt of forked lighting shot from it. Before either girl could react, they were speared by the electricity and fell to the ground, smoking and twitching. "That wasn't the killing part, if you're wondering."

Once he got over the initial surprise and the fresh wave of revulsion he felt for the mage, Lucius couldn't help but admire the spellcraft. This "Black Mage" had to be of pure blood… he was simply too powerful for anything else to be the truth. How old was he, for that matter? Where was he from? This man was an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in a thick layer of dead skunks. "So you've successfully entrapped these young girls… what's next?" he asked disdainfully, dreading the answer.

"Next is the killing. What, did you think I'd rape them? Nah, I just skip right to the stabbity-doo." Both Lucius's revulsion and amazement climbed even further when Black Mage cheerfully grabbed one of the stunned girls by her hair and dragged her, _skipping,_ over to a sheer concrete wall. "Make sure the other one doesn't make any noise, will ya? I don't normally do two of them." Black Mage produced an unusual brown-bladed dagger from his robe, and with a chuckle, drove it into the girl's throat. She stiffened and attempted to gasp, but his choice of target area had cut off her ability to breathe.

Lucius had to look away as the strange man relentlessly continued his assault. Apparently he preferred symbolic rape to the real thing. "Aannnnd boom goes the meteor." Black Mage let her slump to the ground, landing in a red puddle with a wet slap. "You look kinda sick, buddy," he said, wiping the knife off on the girl's left sock – the biggest piece of clothing on her that wasn't already too stained to wipe the blade with. A bit of warmed-to-body-heat chocolate came off with the blood. "Is this your first time working for a demon?"

Lucius swallowed, hardly even thinking as he cast a quick Stupefy on the stirring girl at his feet. "Yes," he admitted. "I thought it hadn't been done for centuries."

"Well, this one's hiring. Before you go thinking, 'oh, he's a demon, he just loves death and violence,' let me set you straight. That's all true, but apparently using chocolate as a murder weapon is the weird condition that boosts this guy's power. It counts as an act of worship or something."

"Does it have to be this… _bloody_?"

"Fuck no." Black Mage laughed harshly. "Any act of violence or killing works. But as long as I'm getting paid to kill, I might as well do it in the best way possible. Besides, it pisses off the police and gets rumors about me in the papers. Look, you're in this for the money, right? This'll get you rich. And I wouldn't worry about your soul; he's not asking for it in this deal, so he probably has enough. Now are you in, or do I have to stab you too?"

Malfoy ignored the threat. He got the feeling he'd be hearing a lot of them. _It's for Draco and Narcissa, it's for Draco and Narcissa…_ "Alright… I'll join." The words dragged through the air, trailing a wave of miasma.

"Glad to hear it." Black Mage flipped the knife around in his hand, offering out the handle. "Your turn."

---

Sakyo was receiving a viewership report from one of Solidus's men when he heard a distant, "There he is." He quickly looked for a way to make a tactful exit, but no chance came up, and soon Solidus and Ofdensen were standing right behind him. The way the hairs on the back of his neck stood up told him they were furious. "Sakyo…" Solidus said in a voice thick with restrained anger. "Do you have time to chat?"

"Gentlemen," Sakyo said, a bit nervously, as he turned around. His current two bodyguards (a huge, red-suited man with a bizarre sort of sideways Mohawk and an equally-enormous bald man with a blue suit and impossibly bushy blond eyebrows) framed him, but even they seemed wary. "Is there a problem?"

"Is there some reason you thought it was appropriate to leave us out of the loop about Deadpool?" Ofdensen asked.

"I didn't want to worry you," Sakyo said with a smile.

"You're a good liar, Sakyo, but that's a terrible lie. You didn't even, uh, respect us enough to come up with a plausible lie?" Ofdensen shook his head. "Honestly, I don't know why we ever listened to you. Ever."

"Hey, this tournament was a good idea." Sakyo held up the printouts he had been given in his previous conversation. "We're making a killing, especially since your shock Kloks tracked down the major bootleggers. And this is actually stirring up civil unrest all over the place over internet censorship laws. Do you know how much easier it is to expand our holdings in places with civil unrest?"

Ofdensen hesitated. "Will you have Deadpool's head on my table in two days?"

"Yes, definitely. I'll send out my personal guard to do it."

"Would you bet your life on it?" Solidus pressed.

Sakyo bit his lip. "You have to understand who this man is. There's always an uncertainty factor…"

"Why wait two days? I can have Deadpool's head on your table in five minutes!" They all turned to look at a Klokateer who had arrived in their hallway. He had two katanas on his back, a jar of dirt under one arm, and white eyes under his hood. "You know, as long as you show me where your table is and don't mind that the rest of me might still be attached."

"You had me going there for a minute, Sakyo," Ofdensen said testily. "What's your angle, Deadpool?"

Deadpool pulled off the Klokateer's mask to reveal his normal mask underneath. "I have no angle. I'm a straight arrow. I have a guardian angel, though, and that's why your fancy white thing didn't kill me. Funny thing is that I can't die, so that beam of what I've been told was death magic just fizzled."

"How'd you get through the shield?" Solidus murmured. He had drawn the Republican, although it wasn't raised yet.

"That was tricky, but my contract for this job told me that the shield doesn't go underground. So… I swam to the bottom, and I tunneled a few feet into the sea floor mud, and then I dug a tunnel all the way to the island. I could've come up on the other side of the shield, and there would've been less brain damage from constantly drowning for days, but where's the fun in that?"

"Contract? With who?" Sakyo asked.

"Yeah, I'm getting paid for this. I could tell you, but it'd be more dramatic… to SHOW you." Deadpool hefted his jar, and _heaved _it at the gathered BORED members. Sakyo sidestepped a bit, and it missed them entirely, crashing to the ground and scattering its contents in a meter-or-so-wide area.

"Please tell me you just came to throw a jar of dirt at us," Ofdensen said. Sakyo had a look of dawning horror on his face, while Solidus just looked irritated.

"That's mostly right," Deadpool said, wiggling his fingers. "And there isn't even a disembodied heart in it!"

Sakyo said something incomprehensible under his breath. "What?" Solidus snapped.

"I said it's not dirt," Sakyo replied, turning around. "It's cocoa powder." He found himself facing a demon. A grinning demon with gently curving horns, and fangs, and claws, and piercing yellow eyes, and runic markings. And he was made of chocolate. Standing in a pentagram that seemed to have spontaneously formed from cocoa powder. "An instant summoning circle…"

"Hello, Sakyo. Your hair is looking positively radiant. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?"

Sakyo smiled, although a bead of sweat was trickling down the side of his head. "Of course. Charles, George, this is Death by Chocolate. Death, this is-"

Solidus shoved Sakyo away like a broken toy. "Why are you here?" he snapped at Death by Chocolate. "Your debt has been paid for your services rendered… even though they were then unrendered."

"Not much for pleasantries? That's fine, I can do without them." Death by Chocolate shook his head. "I'm actually here as a representative of Hell today. They wanted to send somebody you're familiar with…" his grin widened. "Anyway, it seems the members of BORED have been charged with crimes against the afterlife. I'm to execute you all so you can be put on trial in Hell. If you're found innocent, which I sincerely doubt, you'll be returned to life promptly at a point in time seconds after you were killed to live out the remainder of your days."

Solidus, Ofdensen, and the small crowd of minions that had gathered around were dumbstruck. "What are the charges?" Sakyo managed to choke out.

"What are the charges," Death by Chocolate repeated, and laughed softly. It was more mentally disruptive than a jackhammer. "Like you don't already know. The charges are thousands of counts of soul destruction, including a few capital cases of destruction of human souls and several cases of conspiracy to destroy human souls. I mean, I'm _assuming_ you know what that thing you have up there in the sky does, because nobody's ever stumbled across this sort of effect by accident. It takes time. Effort." His smile disappeared. "Research. Did it EVER occur to you that maybe those souls were supposed to go somewhere? Maybe, just maybe that's the point of souls in the first place?"

"Hey, demon guy, what about my payment?" Deadpool interrupted.

DbC frowned. "It's waiting back at your warehouse. A decade's supply of chocolate pudding. Five hundred gallons, enough for over a pint a night."

"Deadpool worked for you for _pudding?!" _Solidus roared.

"I needed somebody immune to that little kill sat of yours. I prefer him to any actually soulless being; he's both more capable and more entertaining. Now… are we going to do this the easy way?" Death by Chocolate opened his right palm, and liquid chocolate began to flow down his arm, quickly coalescing into a sharp, cleaver-like blade.

"Remember that favor you owe me?" Sakyo asked suddenly.

"I don't owe you any," Death by Chocolate answered.

"Not you. Them." He gestured to his body guards. "I'm calling it in. Attack this demon. Destroy him. Your powers are advantageous against his."

They nodded and, with a grunt, shed their human forms like so much rice paper. One transformed into a musclebound, reptilian, orange demon with a constant cloak of flames and a lizardlike frill. The blue-suited man, on the other hand, took on the shape of an icy monster that could best be described as the Incredible Hulk wearing an anthropomorphic penguin costume. "My apologies, sir," the penguin demon said to Death by Chocolate as it cracked feathered knuckles. "But our debt to Master Valdez is worth more than our positions at home."

"Not the easy way, then." Death by Chocolate frowned as if in defeat, but then a chocolate pistol suddenly appeared in his hand and he levied it at Ofdensen. The lizard demon increased its aura, the flames melting the bullets as they passed; Ofdensen flinched, but the bullets didn't break the skin. It looked like he had been hit in the chest with brown paintballs. "No matter… you're not leaving this island alive."

"I'll leave you two to the job," Sakyo said briskly, and ran in the opposite direction. Ofdensen and Solidus followed. "Well, this is a minor setback. Let's keep the pace up, gentlemen; I seriously doubt those two can defeat him." He turned a sharp corner and began racing up a stairway two steps at a time.

"We should hamstring you and leave you to the demon," Solidus growled. "It's your fault we're in this mess."

"Doom and Luthor were the ones who wanted the cannon to destroy souls," Sakyo argued. "They mentioned something about alternate universe versions of their foes also needing to be destroyed."

"You're certainly out of BORED after this anyway." Ofdensen reached the top of the stairs first and held the door open for Solidus and Sakyo (it was almost a reflex). "Why shouldn't we leave you to die?"

"Well, we just dove headfirst into one of my areas of expertise. Tell me, Solidus, how many demons have you played poker with?"

"Just Ocelot."

"Exactly! I know what we should do in this situation."

"What should we do in this situation?" Ofdensen asked, stopping short as they reached an intersection.

Sakyo paused in thought, but a roar from the floor beneath quickly jerked him out of his reveries. "We should split up. You guys will love this idea. He probably prioritizes me the highest, since he knows me and therefore likely hates me."

"Sounds good, but what else?"

"We each go to our transports, and get the hell off this island along with any trustworthy guards or Enforcers we pick up on the way. Everybody else can be left here to rot when we nuke the place."

"We'll need to drop the shield," Ofdensen pointed out.

"Call that in now," Sakyo argued. "We're well compromised already. Check your transport, and all your guards, before takeoff. Make sure they all smell normal. This demon shapeshifts, but he can't change that chocolate smell." There was a small quake. "Oh, and feel free to self-destruct any rooms that still have him in them."

---

Jiraiya looked up from his treetop hideout. There was a visible shimmer around the island. _That barrier is down again…_

---

Jade felt the immense spike of dark magic long before the ear-popping sensation of the shield falling. _I was wondering when something would go terribly, terribly wrong,_ he thought brightly. He picked up his spear and set it nearer his desk.

---

Tashigi was sitting in the VIP break room, which she had just been given access to. Two of Sakyo's Enforcers were there as well. There was tall, slim man wearing a tattered, hooded black cloak over his sharp grey suit, and a small, stout, plump-faced woman who wore rune-engraved gauntlets with her blue pantsuit. "Something's not right," the man said warily.

"What do you mean?" Tashigi asked. The man ignored her and bolted out of the room.

"I'm sorry, he gets kind of intense," the woman replied, finishing her coffee in one gulp and throwing the mug in the sink. "But there's definitely something wrong. You feel it in your gut, don't you?" Tashigi thought for a second, and nodded. "I'm gonna go find out what's going on. You've got that pirate crew, right? You should go check to make sure they're all right."

---

Death by Chocolate slid back against the floor, his armored spine making a scraping noise against the metal. The ice demon charged forward, and Death threw his sword at it. It dove under the blade and slid belly-first towards him, forcing him to temporarily melt and flow sideways to avoid the attack. He flowed several feet up a wall and reformed in a standing position, behind the ice demon, and created an assault rifle. However, a fireball slammed into his back and partially melted him, ruining the weapon and staggering him. He straightened up, but was still in the process of forming a new weapon when a flaming tail followed up the attack and knocked him flat. "I am so sick and tired of getting double-teamed by a fire and ice duo," he growled, getting to his feet again. He dodged a punch from the ice demon, using the cold radiating off its feathers to solidify again, and morphed one hand into a long spike, which he punched into the creature's heaving side. Ice spontaneously formed in front of the attack as a sort of shield, but he was able to puncture the barrier and still do some damage. "Once was more than enough!"

"You don't exactly have a choice in the matter!" The penguin-esque demon punched him hard, dislodging the spike and stunning him. Death by Chocolate jumped back to gain some space and found himself grabbed out of the air by the reptilian demon, which had flanked him. "Finish him, Yato!"

"I'm gonna eatchu!" Yato slurred with a grin, lifting his foe towards a mouth filled with inch-long fangs.

"Oh, HELL no," Death muttered. A huge, tumor-like growth formed out of his chest, quickly swelling and gaining definition until it was recognizable as a second Death by Chocolate. The second broke off from the first, which quickly went stiff, and fell to the floor. DbC slapped his palm onto his old body, which began to glow. "That's better. Enjoy your meal." He charged toward the ice demon, who put up his fists, but took a running leap over him instead. The penguin wasn't so easily feinted, and brought up a forearm to slam him into the ceiling.

"Kaito, what'd he do?" Yato asked. No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the old body went off like a bomb, blowing all the demons in the room to the floor and nearly tearing the hallway apart. As it was, both the floor and ceiling had gaping holes with outward-facing edges, leading up to the floors above and below. The walls had mostly held together, but there were several gashes in them with volcanic gases leaking through. Yato had lost his left hand, and looked more than a little dazed.

"I'd love to stay and party, but this time I've got a job to do." Death by Chocolate was up first and swinging his way into the hole in the ceiling. "Specifically, I've got to go bump off your boss."

"Get back here!" Kaito was hot on his tail, but Death by Chocolate quickly filled the hole in with an inches-thick layer of chocolate. He tapped it again with a grin, enchanting the chocolate to grow barbs if struck. He straightened up, ready to give chase, and instantly received a blow from a morning star to the side of his face, tearing off most of it. He flailed back, covering his face as it regenerated, and turned to meet his attacker head-on.

The hallway was packed with Klokateers, all armed. "We fear not… our mortality!" one chanted.

"We'll serve to the best of our ability!" three others answered.

"We give our lives to our masters! We vow to smite our enemies!" they all roared in unison.

DbC sighed. He conjured up a long, thick staff in both hands, and twirled it with a flourish, adding a blade on the end to make it a naginata. _Once people start chanting, there's just no reasoning with them._

---

Shadow looked up with passing interest as the shield dropped before turning back to the rubble he was shifting through. Travis had supposedly brought more stuff with him than any other Enforcer, and not all of it had been recovered with him after the fight with Membrane, so where was it? All Shadow had found so far was a few torn comics and some punctured beer and soda cans. "What the hell is this?" Shadow picked up a pair of goggles with the rubber strap burned through. _These must've been Membrane's. _Sighing, he tossed them away. Cleanup duty sucked. He reminded himself never to let Solidus catch him moping around HQ again 'when he could be out doing something constructive.'

Shadow had just found something that looked interesting when he heard a garbled message over his walkie-talkie. There was some garbled static, but he was able to make out _"…port to HQ…. peat, all troops report… Q, IMMEDIATELY."_

"Sounds like those idiots need me hanging around after all." Shadow pulled a white cylinder loose from its place wedged between a pair of two-by-fours. It was one of Travis's beam katana. "Tsubaki" was stenciled onto the side. Shadow found the power switch and set it to 'on', and the 'receiver' cap extended out for a few feet. A few small antennae unfolded sideways from the handle, acting like a guard to the blade. Pressing the switch a notch further to 'armed' caused a blue blade of energy to extend from the hilt to a receiver piece. "Interesting." He swung the blade and swung at a piece of rebar sticking out of the ground. It fell in half… and then the lower half began to spray a fountain of blood into the air like the stump from a severed head. Even more bizarrely, money began to spray from it as well. Shadow was dumbstruck. "What the f-"

"_Shadow."_ Ofdensen's voice came through the walkie-talkie crisp and clear. _"Get your ass over here or I'll have you skinned, stuffed, and mounted. This is __**important,**__ alright? Over."_

It wasn't like Ofdensen to make threats. Something was definitely up. Shadow ignored the bleeding rebar as it burst into ashes, choosing instead to sheathe the blade and pack it up. He stuck it in an empty pistol holster and skated off toward HQ.

**End of Chapter**

**Let the Finals Begin**

**Yeah, so... Death by Chocolate. If any of you don't like that I'm reintroducing the OC host of the first tournament, I just want to assure you that I thought about it long and hard. You don't need to actually use him in any of your fights - his effects are far-reaching, but he's still only a human-sized creature. It's entirely possible not to run into him in this storyline.**

**I also introduced Black Mage, as he appears in the webcomic _8-bit Theatre!_ Yeah... Lucius Malfoy's new job, it turns out, is to administer a cult that exists to boost DbC's power through the magic of chocolate murder. I like the scene, but I had to write Lucius's dialogue a few times. Even if he's been humbled, it's still hard to get him sounding right. Also, Black Mage's whole shtick is over the top audacity, so if you don't like that, I don't know what to tell you. Here, he survived the apocalypse of his own world by overselling his own soul to the point where he was simultaneously due on several levels of hell, and was left on Earth so that he could be used to do the bidding of pretty much any demon that needed him. If you were wondering.**

**All the adoptable Enforcers get a little scene, although Shadow's is longer because it feeds into the chapter where I adopt him.**

**Yato's definitely suffered a debilitating injury, but he's by no means dead yet. Demons are tough fuckers.  
**


	5. Sakyo vs Ban

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except the contents of this story. Sakyo is from **_**Yu Yu Hakusho,**_** Deadpool is from Marvel comics, Ban is from **_**Get Backers, **_**and Shine and Bright are (heavily reimagined versions of characters) from **_**Kirby's Dream Land 2**_**.**

**Additional Disclaimer: This chapter features at least one gay demon. He is not a demon because he's gay; the two traits are coincidental.**

**A Winner Is Two: A Survivalist Is You**

**Sakyo vs. Midou Ban**

**Solace in Despair**

To say that Sakyo was scared shitless would not be a gross overstatement. Several times he had wagered his life, and sometimes even against demons. However, getting told that his damnation was imminent and almost certain was something else entirely. The worst part was the feeling of being _hunted_ by something he had almost no power to fight. Yes, he had sought training to defend himself to an extent, and yes, when he had learned Deadpool was on the island, he had surrounded himself with trusted henchmen and started to wear a large-caliber handgun on his person. But power granted by henchmen could never truly supplement the personal power that many of his BORED colleagues wielded, and a handgun was about the least efficient way to deal with this particular threat.

He turned a corner and met a pair of demons coming the other way. But for Sakyo, that was usually a good thing, and it certainly was this time. The two were still in human form – one was a mountain of a man with spiky blonde hair and a grinning, tanned face, dressed in a red leisure suit patterned with stylized yellow suns. The other man was also tall, but thin and angular, with a shock of silver hair at the front of his otherwise short, black crop. He had elongated, hooked features, but a peaceful expression, and his suit was dark blue with yellow crescents. The only stain on this good fortune was that Deadpool was tucked into one of the sun-man's arms (the other held a can of iced tea). He had his arms crossed in an exasperated manner, and was babbling about civil rights infringements.

"Shine, Bright, am I glad to see you guys! What's _he_ doing here?" Sakyo pointed disdainfully at Deadpool.

"But he had a _dream, _and that dream was – hey, it's Slick Mullet! How're you doing, Slick?"

"We found this _loony_ vandalizin' one of the cafeteria soda machines, Sakyo," the moon-patterned man (Bright) explained, in an accent that wouldn't be out of place in Jersey City.

"Okay…" Sakyo gestured for them to walk with him. "Deadpool, what were you doing?"

"Getting a drink."

Sakyo ignored him. "Why are you still here? Is there any further purpose to your being in this base?"

"Well, _yeah…_" Sakyo gestured for him to continue. "I just wanna see how it turns out. It's _exciting._"

"Are you for hire?" he asked cautiously.

"Nah, I haven't collected from my previous job yet."

"Fine. Do you mind just being a bystander?"

"Nah, that's what I was going to do."

Sakyo sighed. "Let him go. It's useless trying to fight him, and he's just dead weight if you carry him."

Shine shrugged and dropped Deadpool. "Thanks for breaking that vending machine, by the way. This is good tea."

"Woo, I'm free!" Deadpool thrust his hands triumphantly in the air. Then he noticed they were leaving, and followed. "Wait! Who wants to play twenty questions?"

"Okay," Bright said reluctantly. "Animal, mineral, or vegetable?"

"None of the above." Bright blinked.

"It's Schrodinger's Theory," Sakyo said exasperatedly. He turned another corner. "Good, we're almost to the elevator. Hopefully my pilot made it to the ship alright."

"Who told you it was Schrodinger's Theory?" Deadpool howled suddenly, his voice more panicked than Sakyo's.

"I've played you before. You ALWAYS pick Schrodinger's Theory, remember? It's not even legitimate… I shouldn't even be talking to you."

"Aww, don't you want to engage with me in melOOOOOOOOdious conversation?"

"No! Talking with you, fighting with you, any sort of interaction always makes things worse!"

"That's Schrodinger's Theory for you," Shine said thoughtfully.

"Actually, boss, that's more like Murphy's Law," Bright added.

"Yes, I think you're ri-" They stopped as the elevator came into view; its doors were just opening.

Sakyo didn't wait to see who was behind door number one; he swiftly drew a _very_ large semiautomatic pistol from his jacket and fired a shot into the elevator itself at head height. The sound drove all conversation to a halt and caused Sakyo, Shine and Bright to all flinch. Sakyo also winced and held his right shoulder. "Heh… chrome-y," Deadpool commented. "Compensating for anything, Saki?"

"Should've brought the Mateba instead," Sakyo said through gritted teeth. The elevator, meanwhile, proved to be seemingly empty aside from the decent-sized new hole in the rear wall. "Who goes there?" A young man with narrow grey eyes and a spiky mop of black hair sulked out from behind the elevator's side. "Ban Midou… not the person I most wanted to see right now," Sakyo said curtly. "But then again, I don't think I really wanted anybody."

Ban stretched with the cocky air of somebody who knew they could dodge bullets. He still seemed to be favoring his left arm, though, and that made Sakyo thank the various demons he was still on good terms with for small favors. "Well, you seem to know me, but I'm not blessed to know any of you. I've had a lousy time on this island, and it's not a great time to test my patience, so who wants to introduce themselves?"

Deadpool was, of course, all too happy to respond. "Oh, Mr. Mullet here is Sakyo Valdez. He's one of the assholes in charge of this tournament, and the guy who came up with the idea of these assholes holding tournaments in the first place, so he's pretty much the whole reason you're here. His hair smells as nice as it looks. And these are his two extraordinarily intimidating bodyguards. Look how bulgy Mr. Shine here is!"

* * *

Ban looked at the three. Sakyo wouldn't meet his eyes… actually, that was exceedingly wise. None of them would. But they weren't denying any of it. "I… see. And who are you?" The speaker was wearing the same executioner uniform as many of the other random goons around, but with a very different mask, and different conduct.

"I'm Deadpool, the Merc with the Mouth, the Demon of Darkness, the Shogun of Sorrow… no, wait, not those last two. Anyway, it's my fault everything's crazy now, because I pretty much bring crazy wherever I go. Specifically, I let the demons out of the jar, opened the titular (heh, TITular) Pandora's Box… all for some lousy pudding. Well, I'm pretty sure it'll be pretty good pudding, but-"

Sakyo had checked his watch no less than three times before finally realizing he didn't have one at the moment. As best Ban could tell, the poor man had taken a little too much cocaine. "ENOUGH!" Sakyo yelled. "Yes, Ban, I'm responsible for this horrible shit you've gone through. Do you want revenge, or do you want me to pay you lots and lots and LOTS of money to go away? Easy way or hard way? Time waits for no man, and I can't either."

That just about broke the camel's back for Ban. This guy tried to shoot him without even finding out who he was! And now this arrogant spiel? "Hard way, definitely."

"Awesome. Shine, Bright, battle time. Don't underestimate him, don't make eye contact, he's got an evil eye thing, he's fast and strong with a super-grip-thing, and he's called the Genius of Battles. Go! Deadpool, get out of the way!" Around the time Sakyo had correctly identified Ban's epitaph, he had begun to sprint down the hall towards Sakyo. He would never bring that gun up in time. Bright, however, was much faster. A long, bony leg lashed up and around at chest-height. Ban had time to block it with his left arm, but the force still stopped his charge dead and knocked him off-balance. Bright's other leg kicked off the ground and came up knee-first in Ban's stomach, sending him sprawling as Bright twirled and gently landed on his feet.

"Ow," Ban said with some surprise as he got up. "You two are special, aren't you?"

"Nobody else does what we do," Shine said with a grin. "Bright! Nighttime." Bright disappeared with a nod, and parts of the hallway seemed to fade away. Before Ban's very eyes, the floor turned to tall grass, and the ceiling disappeared entirely, leaving them under a starry, cloudless night sky with a beautiful crescent moon. The steel walls and the elevator door remained, seeming incredibly out of place. Also quite out of place, Deadpool had taken a seat cross-legged against one wall, leaving Shine standing alone between Sakyo and Ban.

"This isn't so bad," Ban said cheerfully. "Some nice scenery, and one less opponent? Sounds like a blessing." He dashed toward Shine and feinted a punch before moving into a roundhouse. To his further pleasant surprise, Shine wasn't as fast as Bright had been. He had been countering the punch, and had only begun to react to the fact that it was a feint when the foot crashed into his head. The next surprise for Ban was less pleasant – Shine _exploded_ in a fiery shockwave on impact, singeing Ban's skin and hair and sending him flying.

By the time Ban started seeing straight again, the initial blast had died down, but his opponent was still burning like a bonfire in the night. The core of his body seemed to be a _sun_ about a meter in diameter, and his head, shoulders, limbs and pelvis were all slabs of granite floating along the perimeter of this fireball. A bulldog-like face made of coal-black stone gazed at Ban, eyes just empty sockets for the flame to spill out. "Now do you see why it is hopeless? Can you brainstorm a way to defeat me, Genius of Battles? You're an insignificant speck compared to me! The WORLD revolves around ME!"

"I have to fight a hotheaded egotist?" Ban smiled. "I've conquered worse." Shine's stone face twisted into a scowl, and he raised a hand, sending a stream of hot plasma flooding Ban's way. Ban sidestepped it and dashed toward Shine again. Another plasma stream came from Shine's other hand, and Ban took to the air, leaping off the wall to bring his heel down on Shine's skull. The heat was painful even through his shoe, but hearing the undignified caterwaul Shine made was worth it.

Shine staggered back as Ban landed, and Ban was already planning on a quick skull-crushing Snake Kill to finish the job when he was ambushed by a razor-sharp spinning moon. He wanted to believe it was a hallucination, but the moon had begun to spin, dropped out of a surprisingly near spot in the sky (it was about five feet in diameter, apparently) and came rushing at Ban. He could tell it was real because it had scored a minor cut on his arm as he dodged, slicing his shirt open. Ban was pretty bewildered until it laughed and taunted him in Bright's voice, "eyes on the sky, evil eye!" The moon set up camp in a new spot in the heavens, and took a single potshot at Ban with a pale laser beam before it stopped spinning.

It was no trouble to dodge the beam, but he had barely regained his footing when the back of his neck suddenly felt like it was on fire. A timely backflip saved him from the large fireball Shine had tossed at him. "So that's your game, is it?" Ban asked. "Tag teaming from different angles? Not bad."

"You've only just gotten a taste!" Shine roared. Sculpting with his hands, he created a large ring of flame and pushed it toward Ban, and followed with up with an 'X'-shaped fire blast created with a cross chop motion. Ban knew that taking to the air would only leave him more exposed to Bright's shenanigans, so he dashed forward, skipping through the ring and sliding feet-first under the X. Shine, who had been watching eagerly with anticipation, followed up with a stomp that sent a wave of grass-devouring flames across the ground, finally forcing Ban to leap (and forcing Deadpool to repeatedly teleport out of danger). He jumped sideways and landed on the wall, but the moon swooped down again and forced him back.

_Damn… fighting two opponents at this level, with no eyes to lock with, and they control everything here!_ Ban jumped back from a fireball that hit the ground where he had been standing, and nearly tripped over Deadpool, who had somehow gotten hold of an iced tea. "Hey! Watch it!" the mercenary yelled. _That's it!_ Ban grabbed the protesting Deadpool by the neck and threw him at the moon as it was coming around for another pass. There was a wet slicing noise followed by the grinding of blade on bone, and Ban ignored the blood spatter as he raced toward Shine. Shine threw a cross-shaped blast of flame, but Ban leapt through the upper-right window, bounced off the wall, and slammed Shine in the head with a roundhouse kick. A satisfying _crack_ heralded part of Shine's face flying off and bouncing away.

"How do you like them apples?" Ban asked, ignoring the blistering pain in his foot. _Judging by the shouting, Deadpool is still keeping that freaking moon busy… now's my chance._ "Snake-" then he saw Sakyo. Aiming his hand cannon right at him. "Fuck!" Sakyo had been wise enough to fire two-handed this time; Ban pulled out of his attack and managed to avoid the two shots, but he could feel the first burn across his cheek. He backed off cautiously, a prudent move as Deadpool's legs and lower torso dropped where he had been standing.

"Not my pants again!" Deadpool protested.

"Bright, he's really fast," Shine complained, clutching at his head where it had been damaged. "Tag in!" There was a flash, and Ban found himself in… the same place. The grass (as if it had never been torched), the open sky, the metal walls and elevator door; all were still present. But now, it was daytime. The morning sun shone gently on the yellow-green field. Bright stood in front of Sakyo, back in his human form; Shine was nowhere to be found. The only anomaly was Deadpool trying to gruesomely piece himself back together.

"Applesauce, motherfucker!" Bright said with a manic grin. He leapt forward and was on top of Ban before Ban could muster so much as an exclamation of dismay. He threw a punch, and Ban moved to counter it, but the punch was a feint. Ban realized he had been fooled by his own trick a second before the kick crashed into his ribs. He was knocked into the wall, but recovered fast enough to duck under the following kick. "I watched you pounding on Shine," Bright snarled. "I don't ever want to see you doing that again, you little fuck." He brought his arm down in a claw-like strike, but Ban rolled out of the way, lining up an attack of his own.

_I need to end one of these guys quickly. This guy, at least, seems safe to touch._ "Snake Kill!" Bright saw the attack coming, but the angle of Ban's attack instinctively led him to dodge the wrong way – into the wall. Even the very edge of Ban's killing stroke tore a groove into Bright's outer right arm, shredding clothes and scoring muscle from bone.

"Human bastard," Bright hissed. Ban found himself leaping back in pain as rows of small, crescent-shaped yellow scales sprang out of Bright's wound, growing to cover his forearm and hand. Claws grew from his fingertips, and a cloak of semisolid darkness seemed to flare up around the arm, flickering around its border. "That'll be the last mistake you ever make," he continued, bringing the arm up in front of him.

A sudden increase in brightness around him distracted Ban from Bright just in time to dodge a column of flame that dropped from the sun. The beam of fire followed him, continuously pouring flames down into the corridor. "Shit," Ban said observantly. He dodged away from the flame again, only for Bright to zip forward and slash at him with his new, enhanced arm. Ban ducked under it and stayed out of the inky black trail it left in the air, coming up inside of Bright's reach and slamming an elbow into the partially transformed demon's jaw. He managed to keep his footing, and instead brought his human elbow down and knee up at the same time. The attack was extremely fast, but Ban had something faster – his right arm, which he'd noticed Sakyo eyeing earlier. Ban had allowed him to believe it was still broken, but now was as good a time as any to correct the assumption. "Snake Bite!" he yelled, slamming his hand into Bright's chest.

Bright proved once again to be Ban's equal in speed, dodging away even as Ban had dug into his chest. Ban came away clutching some clothes, skin, flesh, and even an entire rib, but he hadn't pierced any vitals. Still, a gaping wound of that caliber would be almost as much of a hindrance as a missing heart. To his surprise, Bright dodged straight into the beam of fire. _Is it too much to ask that he just screwed up his tactics?_ Ban thought silently. A new, smaller stream of flames shot sideways out from the larger one, forcing Ban to dodge away again. _Yes, of course it is._ Another shot from Sakyo forced him to duck in mid-step, and he tripped into a forward roll. He came up in a crouch, one eye on Sakyo, and the other on the dissipating flames.

A new monster that could only have been Bright's true form exploded out from the fading columns. With Shine's true self resembling an anthropomorphic sun, Ban had expected a walking moon from Bright. Instead, it was a sort of crescent-scaled yellow-white werewolf with gleaming blue eyes, still half-shrouded in flames from Shine's attack. "Silly human, my master's light will only heal me!" he cackled, galloping towards Ban on all fours. _Not totally,_ Ban noted, spying black liquid still seeping from a wound on his side. Bright sprang, and fiery beams shone down on either side of Ban and behind him, leaving him unable to dodge. "Perish!"

Ban leaned back and drove his toe up into Bright's wound just as the claws came within an inch of his face. Bright flinched and let out a canine yelp, and the momentum of his charge was halted, leaving him hanging in the air for a moment. As Ban pulled himself back up to a standing position, he had an instant to consider – Bright's backwards-facing, lunar-motif scales would tear up his hands if he used a crushing technique. His shoe was proof enough – the toe of the charred thing had been torn away entirely during his kick. No, a different method would have to be used for the moment. Ban simply drove his fist into Bright's snout as hard as he could. "I've heard this works on sharks!" And, apparently, it was just as effective on wolfish demons. Bright was thrown back down the hall, and collapsed next to Sakyo in a heap.

Sakyo looked up in surprise, and Ban was able to catch his eyes for the first time. This time, he didn't even bother to make the illusion plausible – he just wanted to inflict the man's worst nightmare on him while he had the chance. Sure enough, Sakyo's facial muscles went slack and he stood still. Ban was just starting to walk over to finish off the prone demon when the sun went out, and Shine teleported into his path.

"Hey!" Deadpool yelled from the ground, where he had successfully healed back into a single piece. "Teleporting is my gig. Speaking of which, things are getting a bit serious around here, and the action's moving way too fast. I can't hardly get any lines in at all! Well… I know when I'm not appreciated. Call me when you need some lighthearted comic relief." He blinked away, leaving Ban and Shine to get back to their fast-paced, serious moment.

* * *

Sakyo was shocked to find himself in a prison courtyard, his hands tied behind his back. A squad of Klokateers stood in front of him, each armed with a rifle. _A firing squad… I'm in the Jagan. I've been trapped by Ban in my worst nightmare._

"Cigar?" Sakyo turned. It was Death by Chocolate, smiling and offering his clawed hand. Chocolate flowed down and coalesced into the shape of a cigar. "They're yummy… may as well get some dopamine flowing for the last seconds of your life."

"No, thank you." Sakyo set his jaw. _I know it's just a dream… that will only get me so far, but I'm curious as to where this is going. I didn't think a firing squad was my worst nightmare._ "Just the blindfold, please."

"You always were a man of good taste," Death said, his voice oddly patronizing. "Very well." He produced a black cloth strip and tied it around Sakyo's head. Sakyo swallowed and gritted his teeth. _This is going to hurt._

**BANG!** Sakyo waited for the pain, but none came. Surprised, he opened his eyes… only to be shoved forward. He landed on a wooden surface that seemed to hold his neck in place, his hair cascading into his eyes. He tried to push it away, but his hands were still tied, and he had to look through it as best as he could.

"Sakyo Valdez, you are here to suffer for your crimes against humanity." Sakyo looked up; another Klokateer holding a rope. He looked forward again, and saw an angry crowd composed of all the people who had died during this tournament. They hissed and booed at him; Waluigi threw a tomato, and it splattered on Sakyo's face.

"Any last words?" The voice had changed. Sakyo looked back, and the Klokateer had Death by Chocolate's eyes glowing out from beneath his hood. "Everybody's waiting to hear them. You've lost, gambler!"

Sakyo shook his head as much as he could in his current position. "Just get on with it," he pleaded, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard the blade of the guillotine fall as Death by Chocolate released the rope.

**THUNK.** He opened his eyes again, but his heart sank. He was in a dimly lit room with a single window in front of him. Behind the window were all ten of BORED's other members, smiling grimly at him. He tried to reach out to them, but he was sitting, and his hands were cuffed to the chair.

"Don't waste your effort," DbC advised him. This time, he was casually fingering a lever as a Klokateer wet Sakyo's hair. "You know you've done nothing but fail since you first contracted my services."

"No, your involvement here wasn't my fault-" Sakyo began, but the Klokateer cut him off with a light punch across the face before fastening an ominous and bizarre-looking helmet to Sakyo's skull. "It was Luthor who wanted the satellite that way…"

"None of you objected," Death said gravely. "None of you had second thoughts. None of you tried to get the project killed or even reprioritized. Your silence is your consent, and your consent is your complicity." Sakyo clenched his eyes shut as the demon threw the switch.

_**ZAP.**_ Sakyo didn't open his eyes, afraid of what he might see this time, but the option wasn't his to make. He felt himself pushed forward, he stumbled on something, and his eyes shot open reflexively. He was hoisted to his feet, unable to get back up with his hands tied, so that he could continue climbing the scaffold.

At the top of the stairs, there were a rope, a trapdoor, and a demon. He stood where the Klokateer directed him and looked out at the crowd of angry faces. Contestants, Klokateers, Patriots… again, all the faces of the tournament's casualties. Even Yato and Kaito, Shine and Bright stood in the crowd, screaming incoherently at him with rage borne of measureless despair.

Sakyo tried to make a speech, but his voice caught in his throat. "Save it," Death advised, throwing the rope around the executive's neck and ensuring it was secure. "This is only one among many." He kicked the lever, and Sakyo closed his eyes as his stomach flew up into his throat.

The feeling was gone as quickly as it had came, and Sakyo coughed involuntarily, his eyes flying open. This time, the room was white and sterile, and the window was opaque. He was strapped very securely to a chair, and Death by Chocolate was rolling up his right sleeve.

Solidus was the other man in the room this time. He was speaking in a soft, grave tone on the telephone. As the demon rubbed Sakyo's inner elbow with a moist toilette, Solidus hung up the phone. "That was Luthor," he said cheerily. "He wants us to go ahead with it!"

"President Luthor supports the death penalty… who knew?" Death by Chocolate joked. Solidus let out a hearty laugh, and even Sakyo managed a feeble chuckle. "This may sting a little, but it'll be the last sting you ever feel." As the needle's contents flowed into his vein, Sakyo gently closed his eyes.

_Is this what my own, personal hell is? Always being at the verge of a well-deserved death, without ever feeling it take me?_

When Sakyo opened his eyes again, he was staring straight up into a stormy, overcast sky. His arms were bound together again, over his head; this time, his legs were as well. He looked around; there was a horse whose harness was tied to each set of ropes. The horse above his head was ridden by Smoker, while the one below his feet was ridden by Kakashi.

Death by Chocolate leaned down and said something cryptic about the significance of Smoker and Kakashi here, but for the first time, Sakyo tuned him out in favor of his own thoughts. _So this is damnation for me… death, always right around the corner. Always stalking, never striking. Anticipation is my hell. But that would mean…_

"Here we go again!" Death gave the signal for Kakashi and Smoker to spur their horses on. This time, Sakyo would not shut his eyes. He forced himself to watch as his body was yanked taut and pulled in two. His eyes were still open when the illusion cracked like glass and crumbled around him.

* * *

"You can't win, you know," Shine said. "My attendant may have been knocked unconscious, but you'll find it's not so easy a trick to duplicate with me. You are a worthy opponent to have successfully struck me, however…" the 'sun' at his core intensified, and flames wreathed his entire body. "It won't be so easy this time. Your eyes will not affect me, and your grip cannot touch me. Flee now, mortal, and I may spare your life."

"Fleeing's not really how I do business." Ban wiped away the blood on his left arm. The shearing wound from Bright's sudden scale growth had done some deceptively serious damage earlier; he was losing a fair amount of blood. "I'm part of the Get Backers, and we retrieve things that have been taken unjustly. Your boss took my freedom… my dignity… and he tried to take my life. I'm going to reclaim what's mine."

Shine let loose a great big belly laugh. "Amusing. But first, you have to get past me." The flames began to grow even more intense, coalescing into a solid coil around his body as he continued to speak. "The sun is the giver of all life. Nothing could grow without the sun; in its presence, life springs into existence, and in its absence, everything will wither and die."

Ban recognized the chant as an invocation, not unlike his call to Asclepius. Indeed, a serpentine dragon was beginning to take shape in the flames. He recalled when he had attempted to use such an attack on Smoker. He had been sure of his victory, but the soldier had interrupted him in the middle and completely taken him down. Who was to say Ban couldn't do the same? _It'll be difficult, though; with all that heat around him, I need to strike as fast and decisively as I can._

"Your light banishes that which is impure…" Ban took one last split-second to decide whether to aim for the head or the core. "Your fire scourges that which defies your whim…" he decided on the core – Shine didn't seem all that harmed earlier by the damage to his face, which was still present. Ban dashed forward. Shine focused on Ban, his expression daring the human to strike him. "You have lived two billion years, and you shall live two billion more…"

"But you won't! Snake Kill!" Ban drove his left arm into Shine's torso, and ignoring the agony of plunging his hand into a miniature sun, he crushed something dense in his grip. The effect was immediate and decisive. A small but intense explosion tore Shine in half, sending his top half flying in one direction and his legs in the other. Ban was thrown backwards. Groaning, he was on his feet before he even checked the damage. His left arm was a blackened stump below the elbow, and his shirt had been mostly immolated, leaving angry red burns across his shoulder, torso and cheek. Swallowing, he forced the damage out of his thoughts and forced his aching body to walk towards Sakyo. "Now, to end this."

Sakyo had been utterly unaffected by the explosion, despite standing only ten feet away from the blast. _That's demons, I suppose._ He was still locked helplessly in the Jagan's illusions. Ban sneered and walked right up to him. "I could kill you now, but you still have twelve more seconds in the Jagan. I want to see the expression on your face as I rip your black heart out." He pulled back his arm and waited. "Nine… eight… seven…"

The executive did something Ban wasn't expecting at all. He woke up on six… _smiling._ Ban was so surprised that he didn't react at all as Sakyo flipped the gun around in his hand and pistol-whipped him in the face. That woke him from his reverie, but the blow had been right on one of his burns, and the pain became impossible to work through for a moment. "Thanks for that," Sakyo said. "I realized something in that little personal hell you inflicted on me."

He pistol-whipped Ban again on the other side of his face. "I realized I'm already in my own personal hell. All night, I've been wracked with anticipation at the feeling of death closing in on me." His expression was totally serene as he brought the Desert Eagle down on Ban's forehead. "Whether I live through the night or not, I have nowhere to go but up. There is nothing Hell can do to me worse than what I'm feeling right now." Ban collapsed to the ground, and Sakyo prepared to shoot him in the head. "Thank you for playing, Ban, but I'm afraid the game is over."

"Like hell it is!" Ban swept his foot out and knocked Sakyo to the ground. He was up before the executive could correct his aim. "Snake-" A yellow crescent shot past Sakyo and severed Ban's right arm at the shoulder. Ban, for once, was utterly speechless. Sakyo was splattered with a bit of his blood, but his reaction, a taunting, knowing smile, was more piercing than any bullet.

"You…" Bright was on Ban in a flash, pinning him against the wall with a single claw. "My master… the light of my life… you **slaughtered** him!" He threw back his head and let loose a mournful howl, and the sky changed. It turned blood red, and where a sun or moon had formerly hung, a black void ominously pierced through the heavens and gazed down on the world. A spiderweb of cracks spread from it through the sky, and Ban couldn't help but have the morbid thought that he had shattered the progression of night and day.

That's when Bright started wailing on him with his claws. The first slash tore a huge rent across his chest, and the second crossed it down his already-wounded left side. The word pain didn't begin to describe it. _This can't be happening,_ he thought, trying to cling to rationality. _It is unthinkable that it would end like this. I cannot lose… I am a Genius of Battle. Two demons is nothing. Two demons is a cakewalk._

"You you you you you…" Bright stopped attacking for a second and clutched his head, his eyes tearing up. "He's gone… he was my everything… oh, Lucifer, I can't believe he's gone…." Ban stared at him. He could easily slip up and make eye contact in this fragile state. _I'll disappear if I use the Jagan again… but disappearing would be a blessing if it gets me away from this agony._ "You think you're so smart with those eyes…" Bright sniffed. Without any further warning, he reached up and tore both of Ban's eyes from his head. Ban screamed. "I'm keeping these… as a reminder of my failure."

_No. Inconceivable. I am the Genius of Battle. This must be an illusion._ Bright slashed him across the face, cutting through skin and muscle, splintering bone. _ I must've become trapped in my own Jagan somehow. This is an illusion. This must be an illusion._ Another slash, high on his face. Ban's ear and part of his scalp came off. _This is an illusion. This is an illusion. This is an illusion. This is an illusion._

"Illusion… illusion… illusion…" Ban whispered. Bright let him drop to the ground, running over to the upper half of Shine's body, where he sat and wept. Sakyo walked up to what was left of the Genius of Battles. "Illusion… illusion… illusion…"

"Pathetic." Sakyo wasted no time lining up the shot, making sure to put a bullet through each of Ban's empty sockets. "You didn't know when to give up… and look what it got you." He fingered the spare clip in his side pocket, but decided he couldn't afford to waste bullets. "Come on, Bright."

"He's… he's…" Bright gave an incoherent shout of dismay, followed by another howl. The broken sky above and the charred grass below faded away, returning to the simple wooden-colored chrome floor and ceiling they had been before. "He was my everything, sir," he finally managed to choke out.

"I know, Bright. I am deeply sorry for your loss, but we _have _to keep moving." An explosion sounded down the hall, surprisingly close, lending emphasis to Sakyo's words. "Shine's sacrifice meant something. If you stay here and weep by his body, yours will not."

Bright nodded and reached toward Shine's cooling skull. He removed it with a sharp twist and cradled it close, getting to his feet. The dark cloak wrapped tighter around him. "What he represents still lives on. I need to do so as well." He inclined his head. "I'm at your command, Sakyo."

"Glad to hear it." Sakyo slid his keycard through the elevator. "Now, come on. We have to get to the jet five minutes ago." As he reached for the button that would take him to the hangar, he found he had to suppress the urge to whistle. _It's good to be alive._

**End of Chapter**

**As I was planning this chapter, I looked back on my earlier work and decided I'd been writing Sakyo out-of-character. This is a man who faced his death with unflinching dignity canonically. As such, this chapter is largely about justifying the mischaracterization and working him back to his true form.**

**The "should've brought the Mateba" line refers to the fact that I basically chose Sakyo's gun after shamelessly browsing the Rare Guns page of TV Tropes. He's certainly wealthy enough for one, and there are/were all kinds of people on the island who are more easily dealt with if your gun is particularly powerful... Nero, Bowser, Ginger...**

**Man, I did some weird stuff with Shine and Bright. Well, no regrets. I'd been wanting to use them for a while.  
**


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